Cold air hit my face. The weather had shifted a lot this past week. Light snow crunched under my boots as Tony tugged ahead, tail wagging like he didn’t sense the chaos brewing inside me.
I tugged Tony’s leash to slow him down, the quiet of the woods wrapping around us like a heavy blanket. My breath fogged in the air. I was just starting to feel my shoulders relax when I heard the crunch of footsteps behind me.
Before I could turn, strong hands caught my waist and spun me around.
I gasped when my back hit the rough bark of a pine tree. The cold bit through my jacket, but then Lachlan was there, his body flush against mine, his breath hot against my lips.
“Your parents seem like lovely people,” he said, his voice rough, low, “butfuck,I can’t wait for them to leave.”
And then his mouth was on mine.
The world narrowed to heat and contact and the taste of him. I dropped Tony’s leash, barely aware of the jingle of the collar as I wrapped my arms around Lachlan’s neck. The kiss was wild, too much and not enough all at once. My legs found his waist on instinct, his hands gripping my thighs as he pressed me harder against the trunk for leverage.
My fingers tangled in his dark hair, then fumbled at his jacket, desperate to get closer, to forget everything. His coat smelled like pine and smoke, and I could taste the faintest hint of mint on his breath.
I pushed down the tiny voice in my head that had been telling me all of this was fake because as his lips trailed down my neck and my fingers traced the curve of his jaw, all I could think was howrealit felt anyway. How easily he could undo me. And I wanted to let him devour me whole.
That was the problem.
I finally ripped off his layers, and he was in nothing but his undershirt, but then he was unbuttoning the flannel I was wearing—his—just past my waist so he could pop my breasts out of my bra and suck on my taunt nipples. The moment he pulledaway, the cold air made them pebble, and I groaned at how sensitive everything was becoming.
“Fuck, Logan, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He wrapped a fist into my hair right at the nape of my neck and started kissing me. I shifted my hips, and I could feel the hard bulge of his cock and started grinding against it. He groaned, our lips never separating. I moaned as my climax started building, and he swallowed down every noise I made for him. I wanted him to bend me over right here and feel him fill me, but I knew he wouldn’t go any further because of the weather. I worked myself faster against his hard shaft. Fuck, I was going to come.
I gripped his shoulders and moved my hips quicker, finding the long length of him in his pants and making sure it hit my clit with every thrust of my hips.
“Lachlan, I’m—oh” I tossed my head back as my orgasm shuddered through me, and then his hips jerked unevenly.
“Fuck, baby.” He moaned and rested his head in the crook of my neck, his hot breath mingling against my pulse point.
He kissed down my chest, giving both of my breasts one last suckle and kiss before he put them away and buttoned me up. I glanced down and noticed the wet spot on the front of his pants, and knowing that I’d driven him just as wild made me smile to myself. He kissed me, smiling against my mouth, too, before he pulled away.
“You better get back.” He kissed me again. “Go warm up before your parents think you were kidnapped.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” I teased as he was walking away, and he rolled his eyes at me.
“I was trying to help!” he tossed over his shoulder, and I chuckled as he jogged back toward the trees.
Oh, how far we’d come since then.
Chapter 18
Lachlan
After dinner, Logan’s mother insisted on showing us her presentation for a retreat she had coming up. At first, Logan was doing her usual “tight-smile-I’m-totally-fine” routine that had become her normal around her parents while I was around, but I noticed the second she saw that glittery purple box on the coffee table. Her face lost all color like she’d seen a ghost. Or, more accurately, a ghost holding a twelve-inch, silicon, double-ended dildo.
I soon understood why she’d been dreading this whole thing. Her mother wasn’t just a regular therapist. She specialized in sex.
Her mom, a peppy redhead in yoga pants and a “Sexual Healing is Self-Care” T-shirt, opened the box like it was a treasure chest from a very adult version ofPirates of the Caribbean. Out came an actual PowerPoint remote and what Iprayedwas a massage wand, although the aggressive buzz it made when she clicked it on suggested otherwise.
“Today, I’m giving you both a sneak peek of my new retreat workshop: ‘Let’s Get It On—Again!’” She beamed.
I choked on my beer. Foam almost came out of my nose. Logan turned a shade of red usually reserved for stop signs and hid her face in her hands.
“It’s natural, Logan,” her mom chirped, holding up a neon-pink contraption that looked like it belonged in a science lab. “How do you think your father and I have been so happy over the years?”
“MOTHER,” Logan hissed.
“Oh, honey, don’t be so uptight! I remember when you found my set of Benoit balls in fifth grade. You thought they were marbles! You tried to play jacks with them for twenty minutes!”
